


may your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground

by bookhobbit



Series: Superdisc! [4]
Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Gen, Superheroes, health insurance jokes that don't work if this is a london analogue, let's just say medical care under snapcase is at least as bad as it is in the usa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-03 06:37:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6600667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookhobbit/pseuds/bookhobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rincewind would really rather not be involved with the Guard, particularly not when it is going to involve either death rays or the Unseen University faculty, but once again, Vetinari has plans beyond the ken of mortal men. Or, well, beyond the ken of librarian-assistants-turned-superspeedsters, anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	may your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground

**Author's Note:**

> Here's this! Once again, as with the Vimes, I wrote this in November 2014 and mostly edited it June 2015. This one got a bit more extensive editing, but only because it was less finished than the other, so, yes, please be aware that this too is old and there's every chance that I've missed something in it.

The thing about being a super speedster, Rincewind reflected bitterly, was that it was supposed to make you hard to catch. Chief advantage of super speed, the ability to run away from practically anything. Running away from things was Rincewind's modus operandi even before the accident, and his efficiency had only increased since.

And yet here he was, sitting in front of the Patrician quite against his will and he could run fast, but they caught him the first time and he didn't like to think what they'd do if they had to catch him again.

That took away his main way of dealing with things, and left basically only one other option, i.e., sit and wait to see what was going to happen.

The Patrician wasn't saying anything. It was the kind of silence that encouraged you to fill it. Even knowing it was a trick, Rincewind couldn't stop himself from saying something.

"Why I am here?"

One elegant eyebrow lifted just slightly as the Patrician stared at him. 

"For your own protection," said Vetinari, and resumed signing papers.

Rincewind didn't say _then you could have sent different goons after me, because yours don't make a man feel much in the way of protection_ , because that would be foolish. But he thought it. Hard.

Instead, he said, "From what?"

"I am given to understand that you have been experiencing some mistaken identity."

"What? Oh, right. That lot who thought I was with the Guard."

"Indeed," said Vetinari. There was a long silence that Rincewind, once again, felt compelled to fill; it stretched out too long and tense, daring you to break it, and why weren't his self-preservation instincts sharp enough to ignore that?

"I did what you asked me to, with the diplomat," he ventured. "After the treatment."

"You did," Vetinari acknowledged. "He was returned safely to his homeland."

"You said that was all you wanted. In payment. And then you said you'd let me be. "

"And so I did."

"But... I'm here."

"For your own protection, as I said."

Rincewind scuffed his feet on the floor for a while.

"Protection from what?" he asked, eventually.

"Misunderstanding."

Rincewind put his head in his hands. "I'm not going to join the Guard," he said miserably.

"Ah, but people already think you're a hero. Why disappoint them?" 

"I'm always disappointing people. I don't see why I should stop now."

Vetinari spread his hands. "Think of how much safer you'll be when surrounded by other heroes."

"I'll be a target!"

"You are already a target," said Vetinari, smooth as a sharp knife through a ribcage. "I believe your recent interactions with the miscreants of this city have amply demonstrated that."

Rincewind thought about asking why Vetinari was keeping tabs on him, but he decided he didn't want to know.

"I suppose so," he said, and added, "All right, how do I get in touch with them?"

"I'll have my employees take you there.”

Which was how Rincewind ended up being escorted to the Guardhouse, a place he had thought was a rumor, by four very large men in ill-fitting suits. It felt strangely like a death sentence. Maybe it would be. Things could get pretty dangerous in the Guard, he'd heard. 

He was deposited unceremoniously outside the commander's office and before he could run away, the man himself stepped out.

"What is it?" he demanded.

Rincewind straightened up to his full height, which was not inconsiderable but which he was aware failed to make up for his total lack of muscle. Not that this man was much to write home about in that department either, and also he was just this side of short. That at least was somewhat reassuring. Rincewind could not, at least, be loomed at. 

"Er," he said. "The Patrician sent me."

"Oh? It's you, eh?"

"Um, yes."

"All right, well, go in. He'll see to you. He does the new recruits' schedules."

Rincewind moved nervously into the office, careful to control his speed. If he _wasn't_  careful it was becoming all too easy for him to zip everywhere at high speed, especially now that he wasn't slowly starving to death anymore. 

A young man was sitting there, large and well-scrubbed and wearing a tiny domino mask which he clearly thought disguised his appearance far more than it actually did. It would have been comical if it weren't for the utter seriousness of his expression. You could tell by looking at the man that he genuinely believed in Truth, Justice, and the Ankh-Morporkean Way and did not even slightly giggle when he said this. 

It was, of course, Captain Justice. Rincewind didn't follow the tabloids, but you couldn't miss him. He was one of those public figures that tended to be everywhere; everyone in the city seemed to have a story about meeting him.

"Good afternoon," he said, with a pleasant smile.

Rincewind muttered something that might have approximated "good morning" in return. He was feeling on edge, and in no mood to socialize.

"Lord Vetinari sent you, didn't he? He said you had experience," said the Captain.

Rincewind admitted that this was true. 

"Working solo?"

"Ye-es. Well, I was sort of a security detail, but I can definitely say I was more or less on my own."

"That's good. And you were all right?"

"More or less. I survived. The person I was protecting survived. Injuries were minimal."

Captain Justice rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Would you say you're ready to tackle another solo mission?"

Rincewind wanted to say, no, most definitely not, I'm not ready for anything and you should just let me sit here in peace, but that wouldn't go over well. A solo mission wasn't much more of a trial than one with another person, because at least he knew himself to be reliably unreliable and nobody could make reports on him if he was working alone.

"Yes," he said.

"All right. We've got something for you. You'll be working alone for the moment on whatever we have for you - patrols, and so on. Detritus'll give you the tour, and then once you're settled in, come back over here. I'll give you a debriefing."

 

Rincewind had several days of relatively simple missions on his own, enough to get the lay of the land. None of them were terribly dangerous so far. Relatively mild, as peril went. He was starting to think it might not be all so bad and, in fact, he'd even caught a few criminals who were too slow to resist arrest. He'd taken to carrying handcuffs and snapping them on when people weren't looking. He could usually render his targets harmless without actually having to engage them. He was getting into a routine, in fact, and was finding it almost comforting.

It should not, therefore, have been a surprise when something bigger happened.

Watchman himself called him in. Rincewind had only seen him that first day in the hallway, so it was quite startling to suddenly receive the summons.

"There's been a theft," he said, when Rincewind had settled into the chair and was tapping his fingers impatiently on his knees. Holding still was getting harder and harder and it was starting to worry him, although he didn't know what to do about it.

"What sort?" he asked, fidgeting with a stray thread on his uniform.

"Some sort of technology." Watchman waved a hand irritably. "I don't understand the details. But it's a very important weapon - we need someone to investigate it."

"Weapon?" said Rincewind. This was not good. This spoke of larger amounts of peril than he had come to expect.

"Yes. Some sort of...beam generator, or something. We've had a request from the Unseen University - are you all right?"

"Yes," said Rincewind hastily, "I was just, er - er, surprised. That they would ask for help here."

"Yes, so was I. Lot of stuffed-shirt academics that don't usually have our sort of trouble. In any case I gather it's something they've been developing for some time, and they want it back."

"Right. Right. Well, you wanted me to go investigate?"

"Yes. You know the address?"

"Oh, yes," said Rincewind. "I know it."

"Good. Here's the report, read it before you go."

Watchman returned to his papers with a scowl, thereby indicating that the meeting was over. Rincewind managed to maintain his composure until he got out of the room.

Unseen! He took a deep breath. That was returning to the scene of the crime, all right. His accident had taken place there. The damned accident that had ruined his bloody life. Technically, he'd volunteered for it, but even so, he was pretty sure any experiment that had this sort of result was unethical and probably not IRB-approved. 

And now he had to help them.

Well, he'd do it all right. He'd show them what he could do now. They'd kicked him out, had they? He'd like to see the expressions on their faces when they realized who was recovering to their precious doodad.

Rincewind marched to the university, his face like flint. In fact he ran to the University, but he did it in the most dignified and flinty way he could.

 

He hadn't been here in years, and he'd forgotten how much the place could _loom_. 

He'd be looking for the HEM building...right...

Round the back there was a narrow door standing partly opened, just as he knew it would be; he went inside on the basis that he was already a vigilante and doing illegal things in the name of good was probably part and parcel of that. Besides, he had been a student here once upon a time, so he probably had some sort of tacit permission. 

There was no-one around. It was Sunday, so that made sense. Okay...probably good. He moved cautiously around the room and, consequently, was moving quite slowly when someone grabbed him by his arms and put a hand over his mouth.

He screamed. It came out as a sort of muffled _mfffff_ , but the thought was there.

"Ssssshhhh," his captor breathed into his ear. "There's people in the dorms still. They'll hear."

"Mmmmf," said Rincewind, which was supposed to mean, "That's the point," although he had to admit that was probably not clear through the hand. He felt the prick of a knife through his suit, and straightened up.

"Mfffs mffff ffff fmmm?" he demanded, which was not as much like "What do you want?" as it was supposed to be.

"You're here investigating the theft," said his captor. "I came here to do it. But I have a very, very interesting reason for being here still. I'm going to let you go now. If you run away, I'll let you, but you'll never see me again. If you stay, I'll explain. If you try to arrest me, I'll stab you."

The pressure hand across his mouth let go.

Rincewind was pretty sure he could have caught the thief before they could have managed to stab him, but that was exactly the kind of risk he absolutely hated taking, so he turned around to look at his captor. 

The thief was small and slim, with brown skin and long white-blonde hair pulled back sensibly into a braid, and was dressed in the kind of black clothes you would expect someone to dress in while pulling off a heist.

"I'm Conina," the thief said, smiling at him. It was the sort of smile that gave you a nagging feeling of someone having a joke at your expense, but Rincewind was used to people having a joke at his expense, so it didn't bother him.

"Hello. I'm - Wizzard," he said, remembering to give his superhero name just in time. 

"Why?" she said.

"Sorry?"

"Why Wizzard? What are your powers? Do you do magic?"

Rincewind hadn't been expecting an interrogation, or at least not one about his alias.

"Well...no. I run very fast," he admitted.

"So...?"

"Well...I always liked wizards. And, you know...whizz?" He had to admit it didn't sound quite as good when he said it out loud. 

"Hmmm," said Conina, and slid a knife into her sleeve whence, presumably, it had come.

"You said you'd tell me," said Rincewind, leaning against a wall to keep from zooming around the room to work off some of the nervous energy he'd accumulated while being nearly stabbed. 

"Right." Conina settled on to the floor. "Well, I'm a thief-for-hire. I got a call a couple of weeks ago to steal this device, right? Some sort of fancy tech, I dunno, I don't question 'em, I just do 'em. So I show up and I look for it, but it's not here. It's been stolen already. I tried tracking the guy to let him know, and it just took me back here, so I thought I'd come back to let him know."

"Why'd they want you to steal it?"

"Not sure." She shrugged. "I don't usually ask things like that. Customers like someone who doesn't ask questions."

Fair enough, Rincewind reasoned. If you were going to hire a trained thief you'd want to give the absolute minimum of details, for plausible deniability. "I don't know, officer, I didn't think they'd actually _steal_  it, I just thought maybe they'd go and buy it for me..."

"So you don't know details on what it was you stole."

"Well, no," said Conina. "Do you know what it is?"

Rincewind had an answer for this. He had read the briefing briefly before setting off. "It's a particle beam weapon. You know, like a phaser?"

Conina gave him an unimpressed look. Rincewind sighed.

"It could cause a lot of trouble and blow things up," he said. "All right?"

"What kind of trouble?"

"Dunno. Isn't blowing things up enough for you?"

"Lots of things can blow things up."

Rincewind conceded the truth of this. "But this does it extra quickly and more efficiently. And it - " he removed the briefing from his suit pocket where he'd folded it up - "also disrupts electrical fields when it does it. Don't know how."

"Like an EMP?"

"You know what an EMP is, but not a phaser?"

"I value _practical_  knowledge."

Rincewind stuffed the briefing back in his pocket. "Fine, then. Now you know. What are you going to do?"

Conina hesitated. "I suppose I'll probably regret this, but  I've got some pictures of it here if you want to see, and all the correspondence he sent."

Rincewind blinked. "You're willing to show me? Supposing I arrest you for being a thief?"

"I don't think you will, because I think I'm your best lead," said Conina matter-of-factly. "You can't use me to get to the bigger picture here if I'm in custody. Not with this city's lot."

"What bigger picture?"

"Well, whoever hired me. And who stole the thing in the first place. Aren't they more important than a thief-for-hire?"

Rincewind sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I just started a couple of weeks ago," he said. "I don't think I've got the authority to make this sort of decision. Perhaps I ought to bring you back to the station and they can decide up there."

"The police station?" Conina stood up, body language suddenly wary. 

"No. It's - well, you can see I'm not police - "

"Not with that hat."

Rincewind glared at her and adjusted his hat, which he thought was rather neat. It was tall and pointy and had his superhero name on it. Putting your name on the suit was more traditional, but someone had to be the innovator here. 

"Anyway," he said. "I'm not police, and I don't think we have the power to arrest you. Usually we just leave people at the police station. We do have a lockup, but it's only temporary, I think. I've only been here a little while anyway, it's not as though I'd be an expert."

Conina raised her eyebrows. "Just my luck I'd get a newbie," she said. "Oh, well, take me back to your station, then. And if you try to arrest me you'll find out what a steel comb can do to a face."

"Wait," said Rincewind, "What was that?"

 

On the walk back to the station - it felt so unbearably slow walking with her, he was getting jittery again and he wanted to run but it probably wasn't a good idea - he learned that Conina was a hairdresser in her spare time.

"You've got a day job?" he said, forehead wrinkling. "Being a thief doesn't pay the bills?"

"It does, but I've always wanted to be a hairdresser." She sounded defensive. 

"That's fine, I suppose," said Rincewind, shrugging. "I used to be an assistant librarian before...well, before. You've really fought someone with a steel comb?"

"Oh, yes. Scissors too, obviously. Well, you have to work with what's to hand, don't you? That's the heart of good fighting, improvisation."

"Is it?" said Rincewind.

"You should know." Conina made a vague gesture at his costume. "You're a hero. Don't you do that sort of thing?"

"I keep telling you, I've been doing this for about five minutes, and anyway I'm not a hero. I just...there was an accident. I didn't pick this and I don't fight, really. I just run away from things, usually. Sometimes I handcuff people at high speed."

Conina raised her eyebrows. "Doesn't sound very heroic to me."

"It's not."

"Hmmm." Conina looked at him. "What're your powers, then? Something about speed, you said earlier?"

"Well, I can run very fast."

"Ah. I understand the running-away thing now."

"Yes. I mean, it's not as though I've even got the sort of things that make you useful in a fight."

"I don't know," she said. "Moving fast, you can do a lot with that. A fast punch hurts as much as a strong one if you do it right. Momentum and so forth."

"Don't know about that," said Rincewind vaguely. "I just wanted to stay out of trouble."

"You picked a good job for that," said Conina, smiling that alarming smile again. She was really quite pretty and Rincewind was annoyed at himself for noticing. That sort of thing could only lead to trouble. First you were noticing that someone was cute, and then you were getting yourself into all sorts of scrapes and hoping against hope that they might be impressed, and he'd had enough of that to last him a lifetime. No. As far as he was concerned, noticing pretty people was a serious first step on the road to perdition. Or at least serious inconvenience.

Rincewind realized he'd let far too much time go by without a response. Conina was staring at him.

"Yes, well, I didn't exactly pick it," he said, waving a hand. "More like I was blackmailed into it."

"Huh. You really aren't a hero."

"I'm not. And here's the Guardhouse, so if you're looking to meet actual heroes, you're in the right place."

"Are you sure you trust me with the identity of your secret base?" she said, raising her eyebrows. "I could sell you out."

"I wouldn't give two pins for your chances if you did. It's like I said, they're all heroic types around here, and you know how that sorts takes betrayal."

"Like a lead balloon."

"Right. It's just in here."

"How do I know  _you're_  not selling _me_  out?" Conina said, following him into the dusty, blackened, rubble-ridden interior of the Guardhouse. "It looks pretty unused in here."

"The actual room is underneath," he explained, going over to the trapdoor and opening it. He realized too late that he'd kicked into superspeed and gone too fast; she was staring at him. "Er, better get a move on, yes?" he said.

"That was..."

"Er, sorry," said Rincewind, "I sort of...forget. Sometimes. Look, come on down and meet people. Okay?"

With that, he went down the stairs. She followed with a rustle of black cloth and hidden knives.

He took her directly to Watchman, because that way there'd be no runaround about go see so and so. Rincewind wanted to get this over with; the sooner the theft was straightened out, the sooner he went home for the evening. 

They went into the room and Rincewind said, "Er. I have a prisoner."

Conina gave him a look. He tried a placating gesture, but she just rolled her eyes. "Witness," Rincewind amended with a sigh.

"What sort of prisoner/witness?" said Watchman, looking up.

Rincewind explained.

"This is the thief?" said Watchman, after the story had finished. "You're a thief?"

"Yes."

"And you're...here?"

"Yes."

"I suppose you're going to tell me why you showed up in this building full of law enforcement officials and admitted you stole something. Are you here to confess?"

"Law enforcement unofficials, I should think," said Conina. "And no. The point is, I didn't get to do my job, and the more I hear about this weapon, the more I think it ought to be stopped." She shrugged. "I don't want important things blown up any more than you do. I thought I could help you track down the man who hired me."

Watchman drummed his fingers on the desk. "All right," he said. "That makes sense. I'll accept it for now." He looked at Rincewind. "You'll work with her?"

Rincewind groaned internally. Drat. More time spent in the presence of a woman who was rapidly proving to be extremely dangerous. "Yes," he said. 

"Good. You two can carry on with whatever you were doing. Oh." He raised a finger. "Wizzard, UU's sent someone in to help us?"

Rincewind frowned. "They what?"

"I know, but apparently they want this to be over as much as we do."

Not as much as I do, thought Rincewind. 

"So go and see him, he's set up in the empty office down the hall," Watchman continued. "They said they'd like you to work very closely."

"Into legwork, is he?"

"Not at the moment," said Watchman, "But I think he's working on it."

 

Rincewind, trailed by Conina, proceeded down the highway with caution. The faculty at UU could be really, really hard to deal with sometimes, and he wasn't sure who he'd get.

But when he opened the door he was confronted not with one of the argumentative old men he was expecting, but to a plump young man with dark hair and round glasses sitting in front of a computer and typing intently.

"Ponder?" said Rincewind, stepping inside.

Ponder turned. "Rincewind! I'd heard they had you in here, but I didn't know for sure. How are you?"

"As well as can be expected," Rincewind lied. "They sent you to work on this? Well, of course they would, you're the only one in HEM who knows what's going on at any given time."

"I wouldn't say that," said Ponder, in a tone which screamed the opposite. "However, I am the most up to date on the stolen object. Who is this young lady?"

"Oh. This is Conina. She's a thief. Conina, this is Ponder Stibbons, he's from UU. Technology bloke."

Conina nodded gravely. "Charmed."

"Thief?" said Ponder.

"It's a living," said Conina.

"She's working with us," said Rincewind, waving a hand. 

This seemed to catch Ponder's attention; he pushed his glasses up and leaned forward. "How is your suit holding up? I've been quite worried about whether it'd withstand the friction of air at the speeds you move."

"It's fine. It's fine." Rincewind shrugged. "Look, what are you here for? I know they want you to help us with the theft, but what can you do?"

"Well, I've been working on a tracking program that I think could be quite useful," said Ponder.

Conina stepped forward. "Speaking of that," she said, "I've got some information you might find useful for this."

"Yes?" said Ponder politely, turning to her. "Of what sort?"

"The person who hired me to steal what you're missing."

"You stole the device!?"

"No, no." Conina shook her head. "I was hired to and someone got there before me. I thought if we tracked down who hired me it might help, but I couldn't do it. Shall I send you the information?"

"Yes, all transactions, if you can." Ponder turned back to his computer, pushing his glasses up again. 

"What are we going to do, then," said Rincewind, hoping that the answer would be 'go home, I've got a handle on it', but knowing very well it wouldn't be.

Ponder frowned thoughtfully. "Well... I think it would better if you give me an hour or so to start tracking the person you need. Go have a cup of tea, perhaps?"

Rincewind perked up a bit. It wasn't sleep, but it was better than going out onto the streets again.

"All right," he said, "Shall I bring you one?"

"That would be lovely, thanks."

"Tea, Conina? Or coffee, if you like."

"Sure." She shrugged. "Maybe we can discuss our strategy while we're about it."

"All right, then, come on up to the canteen."

"This place has a canteen?"

"Yes," Rincewind said. "With tea and coffee and everything. For your breaks."

"Gods, this is just like a real job, isn't it. You get paid and everything?"

"Yep."

Conina considered that. "Health insurance?"

He gave her an odd look. "What?" she said, shrugging. "When you're self-employed you think about these things a lot. It's a dangerous business I'm in."

"...here's the canteen," Rincewind said, stepping inside. She followed, and the murmured voices stopped for a moment as everyone turned to look at the newcomer.

"Not bad in here, as they go," she said thoughtfully, apparently immune to the stares. "Is that woman in the corner smoking? Isn't there a sign?"

"That's Spike, you get used to it. Captain Justice has told her a thousand times, but - "

"Captain Justice?" said Conina.

"He's one of the upper management."

"His name is Captain Justice?"

"Yes."

"If this place is where you picked your capacity to name things, I see why you're called Wizzard."

"Hey!" Rincewind said, crossing his arms. "My name is fine, look, yes, the Cap is a bit...weird, he's very serious about it, but everyone else is all right."

"Mhmmm." Conina smiled. "I can't believe it. Actually Captain Justice."

"I can tell you haven't been in town very long," he said, "Or you would have heard it before. You'd probably have met him before, actually."

"Yeah? Gets around, does he?"

"Everyone in the city knows him. Here's your tea." Rincewind handed her a styrofoam cup. "I'll just go and take Ponder his."

"Right." Conina settled in. Rincewind covered Ponder's cup carefully with a lid, and then ran up the stairs to take it to him, bits of paper whooshing around him as he moved.

He stopped just outside Ponder's door, but it was too late, Ponder had heard him and turned.

"Er, tea's up," said Rincewind, holding the cup up. "I didn't spill any of it, don't worry."

"That's, uh, not what I was -" Ponder stopped. "That was amazing. I haven't seen you - wow. That was fast."

"I can go faster," said Rincewind, holding the cup out. Ponder took it, eyes not leaving Rincewind. "Anyway," Rincewind added, "You were at the school when it happened. I saw you doing tests and stuff, sometimes."

"Yes, but for the most part this sort of thing isn't my field, I'm more into physics and mathematics than biology. I mean, I did some analysis, but I never..."

"Well. It's not that great," said Rincewind awkwardly. "I mean, it's just running fast."

"Yes, but how dense do your muscles have to be, and how strong do your bones have to be to withstand the pressure and, and, and - I mean, your metabolism alone."

"That's a problem, yes," Rincewind acknowledged. "Not as much anymore, but still, I'm forever having to carry granola bars around. And I hate granola."

Ponder smiled. "I'll see if I can talk to the faculty when this is over. Maybe we can invent something that'll keep your energy up more efficiently. And taste better."

"Thank you," Rincewind said, edging towards the door. "I have to go now. Things to do. Plans to make. People to fight."

"Do you fight people?" Ponder looked almost wistful, Rincewind thought. "Just like in stories?"

"Me? Not really. Some people, yes. You should talk to Captain Justice. Or Lady Lupine, she's got stories." Rincewind shrugged. "It's probably not as impressive as it sounds. I try to stay out of trouble."

"You picked the wrong job for that," said Ponder, sipping his tea.

Rincewind sighed. Why did everyone have to point it out? "You of all people should know I didn't pick it," he said. "It was my only option. What else am I going to do, like this?"

"What did you do before?" Ponder said, tilting his head. "I know you worked at the university, but - "

"Librarian's assistant. Sometimes I translated things. It wasn't very exciting but it was mine - I really have got to go. I'm sorry." Rincewind rushed out of the room before Ponder could say anything and realized too late that that would probably just draw more attention to him.

Oh, well. Maybe he could trust Ponder not to want to run anymore tests on him. Or at least to refrain from actually doing so against his will.

Conina was sitting drinking her tea and filing her nails. She looked up when he came back in.

"Speed you were moving, I expected you back before I'd settled," she said.

"I got a bit caught up in conversation."

"Yes? About our strategy?"

"Er, no. About...old times, I suppose?"

"You had old times with that kid?" Conina raised an eyebrow.

"Not precisely. We just know the same people. So, what were you thinking?"

Conina nodded and put the file away, leaning forward. "Well, it's like this. Depending on what the kid - "

"Ponder Stibbons," Rincewind reminded her. She looked younger than Ponder, he thought, and was finding her terminology somewhat disconcerting.

"Right. Depending on what Ponder Stibbons gets us, we're obviously going to follow up on the bloke, but I was wondering whether it'd be better to split up or stay together."

"Hmm." Rincewind rested his chin on a hand. "We'll be more vulnerable to attack if we're alone."

"Yes, that's what I thought, but we'll also be able to cover more ground."

"How about we follow up on the bloke together, and if we get more than one lead on him we split up and each take one."

"Right. We ought to exchange contact information."

"Are you sure about that?" Rincewind frowned. "Seems awfully trusting."

"I've got a burner phone for things like this," said Conina. "I'm surprised you don't."

"We can't all write off burner phones on our taxes. Anyway, I've never needed any such thing before."

"I can tell you haven't been doing things like this long," said Conina, sniffing. "I'll give you my number, and it's up to you to decide whether I need yours."

He decided to give it to her, in the end. It was better that she be able to call him if there was a new development in the case. There was also the fact that she might need backup, but Rincewind had a strong suspicion she was the kind of person you called _for_  backup, not the other way around.

"I'll delete it when we're finished," Conina promised. "I am a thief, but I'm not unethical."

"Thanks," said Rincewind, heart sinking because his first thought had been something along the lines of _or you could keep it and we could, I don't know, go see a film or something_  and that didn't bode well. Oh, no. It was happening again. He told himself, very sternly, to let this go.

Fortunately, Ponder bustled into the canteen at that moment.

"I've found something out," he said, waving a thick sheaf of papers. "You were right, the signal did come from UU. Your buyer is one of our scientists."

"What?" Conina's brow wrinkled. "Why would someone steal their own device?"

"A setup, I think. I'm not sure the purpose yet." Ponder shrugged. "My best guess? He wanted to use it himself for unofficial purposes and having it stolen was the best way to do that. I can't say for sure, though. But I've got his address if you want to look him up. His name's Spelter." Ponder handed the sheaf of papers to Rincewind. "Before you go, let's trade numbers. That way you can keep me updated, and if I find anything useful I'll let you know."

"Okay," said Rincewind with a sigh. This was more socialization than he generally got in a week, much less a day, and of course it would be for work. Once the transaction was completed, he looked at Conina. "Perhaps it would be faster if I went myself."

"You did say staying together at first would be better."

"Yes, but, well...you walk so slow," Rincewind said. Ponder was looking at him strangely again, and he winced. "Sorry."

"No, no, you've got a point," said Conina thoughtfully. "You can go a lot faster than I can. Perhaps you could carry me?"

"What?" said Rincewind, freezing in place.

"I'm not very heavy, I'm quite small. And I can hang on all right, so it's not as though you'd have to tote me in your arms bridal-style. And it would go faster."

"Er," said Rincewind.

"The friction is a problem," said Ponder. "I think we found he's not affected by it, somehow, but I'm not sure that would work for you. You could get some nasty burns."

"If it starts to feel painful I'll say something."

"Better have a nonverbal signal. Not sure what speech would be like, going that fast unshielded."

"Hmm." Conina looked at the ceiling. "How about this," she said, turning to Rincewind. "It starts to feel burn-y, I tap your arm hard twice, you stop."

"I...okay."

"Good." She nodded. "Right, then. Let's get going."

"Um," said Rincewind. "Um. How should I do this? Kneel down, or...?"

"Just sort of crouch."

He did so, heart sinking still further. This was going to make it even worse. And, yes, she climbed onto his back and he could smell her perfume, or maybe just her shampoo. Her hair was tickling his cheek. Damn, damn. Why did this have to happen to him? 

She really wasn't that heavy - he wasn't very strong, either, but he wasn't falling over. Ponder was watching thoughtfully.

"You'll have to tell me how it goes," he said. "It would be interesting to see the effects on a human unaffected by what happened to you."

"I'll send you a full report," said Conina gravely. "Shall we?"

Rincewind nodded miserably and set off for the address on the paper. It was tricky going at first - he kept overbalancing - but he soon settled into a rhythm, even with the weight on his back. It was a ten-minute trip at the speed he took. He could have gone faster, but Conina didn't do any tapping, so he assumed this was a reasonable pace and didn't pick it up. Anyway, if you went too fast in the middle of the city you tended to slip on things, and that was unpleasant, especially if you landed in them.

He let her down just outside the apartment and she knocked smartly on the door.

It creaked open. They exchanged glances.

"That's not a good sign," said Rincewind. "Who leaves their door open in this day and age?"

"Maybe he's just...popped out for some milk. Or he's inside doing work and didn't latch it properly when he closed it on the way in."

"Bet?" said Rincewind grimly, and headed inside, ready to run at the first sign of someone firing a freeze-ray at him.

He stopped in the middle of the living room, because of what he found there. He was still standing there when Conina came in and bumped into him when she saw it.

"Urgh," she said. "What happened? You find him like this?"

"Yes," said Rincewind hollowly. "All the bits of him, just like this."

"I suppose that answers the question of why the door was open," she said, shaking her head. "Who could have done this?"

"The person who stole the device from him after this?" suggested Rincewind.

"How do you know it's not here?"

"Bet it isn't."

"Fair point, but why?" Conina's nose wrinkled in professional disgust. "This is messy, why bother taking him out like this? Stealing it and getting out would have been neater. Did they want to get rid of the competition?"

"Maybe, or, well, didn't he invent it? Maybe whoever stole it didn't want him to be able to make another. Maybe they wanted theirs to be unique."

Conina looked at the body. "That's definitely a thorough job of making sure he won't be able to recreate it," she said, shaking her head. "And there's our lead out the door. We'll have to have a look around the apartment and see if there are any clues." She stepped carefully around the strewn pieces of Spelter. "Let's go."

"Yeeurgh," said Rincewind, following her slowly. 

There was a hallway with several doors off it. They seemed to be a bedroom, a bathroom, and a study. 

"You take the study," said Conina. "I'll take the bedroom."

He nodded, moved into the study, and riffled through the papers. None of them were much of anything interesting; a lot of teaching stuff, but - oh! Here was a printout of what must be a transaction with Conina. Well, that at least confirmed they were on the right track, though it didn't tell them anything new except that he was foolish enough to keep physical records of an illegal transaction. He set them aside anyway, in case they'd be useful later. Ah, and here was a file drawer with a jimmied lock, it looked like. He pulled it open, and found it mostly empty.

Well, not terribly surprising. They wouldn't have picked the lock and then left the contents, wouldn't be much point. He poked around the drawer, and found a small piece of paper, which he photographed and sent to Ponder in case it might mean something. It just looked like a lot of numbers to him, but he'd never been good at science in school.

He was just trying, with perhaps unwarranted optimism, to break into Spelter's computer, but computers were another thing he was not particularly good with, and it had done something funny when he was trying to turn it on. Looked like it'd been wiped. Conina seemed the type to know about hacking, so maybe she'd be able to recover something from it. 

His phone dinged. It was a text from Ponder. "Drawer probably had backups of plan for device in it," it read.

Okay. That made sense. The kill-the-competition theory was starting to make more sense. Which meant, what, their next stop would be at the university? He went to fetch Conina, and caught her up with the mini-discoveries thus far.

"Hmmm," she said, sitting down at the computer and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "No. I don't think I can do anything with this. Maybe we should take the hard drive back to Stibbons?"

"Probably a good idea."

"Right." She stood up. "There was nothing in the bedroom. Are you done with this place?"

"I think so, yes."

"Then we'd better call the police and get out of here." 

Rincewind nodded. "Do you, er, want a ride again...?"

"Yes, please. You weren't kidding about it being faster with just you."

Rincewind sighed. "I never am. I don't know why people think I am. Why would I be?" He crouched down, and Conina hoisted herself up on his back.

"I feel like a kid getting a piggy-back ride from my dad," she said as he started off.

Rincewind groaned silently. Great, being compared to her dad, that was not at all disturbing. He wasn't old enough for that by half. Best to get it over with and forget all about it. He was not up to this at all. He could have gone on working solo for the rest of his life for all he cared. No more wondering if his social skills had eroded too far to come off as anything but kind of weird and a bit sad. As much as he didn't like being put in danger, criminals didn't give you nonverbal signals you couldn't pick up properly.

He set her down outside the Guardhouse and she straightened her clothes neatly.

"Quite efficient transport, really. I wish I had one of you to take me everywhere I went."

"Well, I don't. My back is going to be giving me hell tomorrow, do you realize?"

"I'll just have to make it up to you. I'll buy you a coffee or something." She breezed in, and he trailed after, trying not to think about the idea. Coffee would only prolong this, best not to think of indulging the whim.

By coincidence, Ponder was waiting in the canteen with a cup of coffee. "Hello," he said, with a wave. "I thought you might come down here first. It seems like it's going to be a long night." He held up the cup. "What've you got for me?"

Conina produced the hard drive. "Been wiped," she said, "But I thought you might be able to reconstruct something."

Ponder took it. "I'll try. No promises, but maybe something."

"Thought you might," said Conina, sitting down. "There was nothing else there."

"So he wasn't in?"

There was a long pause.

"Ah," said Rincewind. "Right. Well, you could say he was in, and then again you could say he was - "

"Dead," said Conina bluntly. "We called the police just before we went out."

"Dead?" said Ponder. 

"Yeah." Rincewind shuddered. "Very, very dead. All-the-kings-horses-and-all-the-king's-men dead."

"What?" said Conina, turning around.

"Er. Humpty Dumpty," said Rincewind. "In...bits." He subsided as she continued to stare at him. "Never mind," he muttered. "See if I try to use euphemisms again."

"How had he been killed?" asked Ponder, leaning forward. "You said he was in bits?"

"Yes," said Conina. "Very definitely, lots of little bits."

Ponder ran a hand through his hair and said, "Damn." That, Rincewind noted, was unusual for what he knew of him. "That...probably means it was the person who stole the disruptor."

"I thought so," said Rincewind. "I thought they might not want him building another."

"Probably," said Ponder absently removing his glasses. "That's probably it."

"Hang on a minute," said Conina, "Disruptor? You can kill individual people with this thing? It's that precise?"

"Yes, it wasn't intended that way but the application is actually quite fa-"

"And you were developing this at a university?" she demanded.

"Well, yes," said Ponder, looking nonplussed. "I mean, where else?"

"You clearly aren't too familiar with the Unseen University," sighed Rincewind. "This is the sort of thing they do for fun. Developing weapons. Ruining people's lives."

"We haven't ruined any lives," said Ponder, frowning at Rincewind. "If you're talking about Spelter, we weren't responsible for that."

"I'm talking," said Rincewind, "About me. Look, never mind. Let's just - "

Their talk was interrupted by Detritus shuffling high-speed into the canteen. Because of his size, he wasn't a very fast mover, but when he got started he was hard to slow down and hard to ignore.

"Mr. V- Watchman wants you two to get on out," he said, huffing to a stop. "Dere's been some kinda break in at der university what's still going on, and if you hurry you can stop - "

He didn't finish. Rincewind was moving by the word "hurry" and Conina had plunged after him shouting "Hang on, give me a ride, will you!"

"Well," Detritus said to empty air. "You didn't have to move dat fast." He turned to Ponder. "Dey could have said goodbye."

"I think UU is a bit of an...emotionally fraught place for Rincewind," said Ponder cautiously. Detritus nodded wisely.

"I know about fraught," he said. "Well, best of luck to you."

"Thanks. You too."

 

Rincewind had been vaguely expecting a fire when he'd stopped to think and grab Conina, but it wasn't like that at all; there were no outward signs. Even so, he knew enough to go for the HEM building. It seemed like everything that happened at UU happened in the HEM building. Besides, he'd spent enough time there to be able to navigate it easily, and that was something that gave him an advantage if there was a real fight.

He kept it slow enough for Conina to follow after he'd set her down, although it felt like torture.

Damn it, if anyone deserved to attack this place it was him.

What he saw when he got inside...

It was quite pretty, actually, if you looked at it the right way. All the bodies lying around sort of ruined the beautiful coloured lights show the small box in the middle of the room was emitting.

Right beside the box there was a boy with curly hair and golden eyes. Rincewind stopped when he saw him. What was a kid doing here, and so near the device? He couldn't - he couldn't be controlling it, could he? He looked to be about twelve or thireteen, and Rincewind didn't know much about children, but something he did know was that they didn't generally tear up universities using destructive doomsday devices.

But...bodies. There were so many bodies. And he was in the center...

Rincewind zipped forward, coming closer. "Hello?" he called. "Are you all right?"

The boy turned and looked at him, puzzled. "Why would I not be all right?"

"There's a lot going on right now," offered Rincewind.

The boy nodded. "Yes. That's as it should be."

"Um," said Rincewind. "I think I have to stop you."

The boy held out a hand, and drew the disruptor into it.

"I don't think you should," he said. "I really don't think you should."

Conina came in at just that moment, and the boy's head turned towards her. Rincewind snatched the device out of his hand. The boy turned back towards him, more slowly than you would have expected from someone startled.

"You had better give that back," he said slowly.

"No." Rincewind held on to it, glancing at Conina. She nodded at him, preparing to grab the boy himself.

"Yes," said the boy, sounding puzzled, and everything exploded.

He realized after a moment that the explosion was just in his head, and that he was on the floor curled up into a ball, and that he'd dropped the disruptor. Conina was running towards him but the same thing that happened to him hit her a moment later, and she dropped the to the floor.

The pain in his head was growing to a crescendo. He clutched his hands to his ears, though it wasn't sound, it was some sort of pressure. This couldn't go on - it couldn't - 

It didn't. He passed out. It was a bit of a relief.

 

Everything was quiet when Rincewind woke up. There were no more metal-tearing noises or screams. This was either good or very bad, and he couldn't figure out which just yet.

He opened his eyes. Conina was standing over him. 

"Did you pass out?" he said groggily, sitting up.

"Yes, but not for very long. I've been waiting for you. I tried to chase the kid, but - " she shrugged. "He's gone. Are you all right?"

"I think my head has caught fire."

"It hasn't."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Damn." He rubbed his eyes and got slowly to his feet. "Did you see which direction he went?"

"Nope, and I think we can safely say we don't have any equipment to track him," she said dryly. "Every device in the university's dead."

At the word dead, Rincewind looked around. Ah, yes. The corpses were still there.

"I'm going to be sick," he said.

"Suit yourself. This place can't get any worse than it already has."

"Are there survivors?"

"Yes. I think we need to find them and evacuate them." Conina mechanically began taking out and rebraiding her hair, which had fallen down. "It'll be something, at least. We weren't much in that fight."

"Wasn't even a fight," said Rincewind, rubbing his eyes. "All right, I know all the nooks and crannies in this place. Let's go."

There were quite a lot of people hiding under desks and in closest. Rincewind and Conina set the ones they found to work hunting out the ones they didn't. Rincewind was corralling them all into a central location when his phone binged.

"Right this way, ma'am, into this big lecture hall. Yes, it's fine. The rescue personnel will be here soon." He checked the text; it was from Ponder. "Bring senior members of faculty here," it read. "I have a reason to believe the kid has a grudge."

Rincewind sighed. Trying to get the senior faculty to do anything was like herding cats, and having just spent fifteen minutes herding civilians, he felt he was currently in a good place to make a comparison.

He found Conina trying to talk a woman out of a broom closet.

"We're sure he's gone," she was saying. "It's all safe and we're going to get you home."

"You might just be saying that," came a muffled voice through the closet door. "It might be a trick."

"It's not," Conina assured it. "Oh, Wizzard. What is it?"

He showed her the text.

"Well, you're going to have to round them up," she said. "I don't who anyone is."

"Right. I'll need your help once I get them together to try and get them to come with me. They're not very cooperative."

"Okay." Conina turned her attention back to the closet. "I promise. No tricks."

Rincewind zoomed away, scanning the lecture hall for familiar faces. Ah, yes, there was Ridcully in the corner bullying the Bursar, and the Dean of the College of Sciences was sitting in the corner looking imperious. Where was the Senior Wrangler...yes, over there with the Lecturer, and the Chair was hovering around behind him.

Good, that was everyone.

Now how was he going to get them all together?

 

One extremely annoying interlude which had involved significant wheedling and near bribery later, Rincewind met Conina.

"Let's go," he said grimly. "I'm not holding this lot together any longer."

When they got outside, Ponder had arrived and was waving at them.

"I've come to assist you with evacuation procedures," he said, raising an eyebrow in a way that Rincewind took to mean 'getting these stubborn academics off the premise'.

"Oh, good," said Conina sweetly. "I'm sure we can use the help."

"Damn right," Rincewind muttered, glaring at the senior wizards, one of whom had accused him of being a plant from the government and whacked him on the head.

"Stibbons?" said the Dean, coming around the corner. "Is that you?"

"Yes, sir," said Ponder. "We think that the person who stole the device is trying to kill you all, sir. We have to go back to the Guardhouse."

"How thrilling," said the Senior Wrangler.

"Bit terrifying," opined the Lecturer in Recent Runes. "I mean, how do you know we can trust these chaps?" He prodded Rincewind in the ribs. "I remember you. Not a good student. How do we know they've made something of themselves?"

Rincewind opened his mouth to protest that he was supposed to have a secret identity, thank you, but Ponder got in first. "There's nowhere else safe to go," he said. "I promise you, if we're murdered in our makeshift beds, I will take full responsibility."

"Well, that's all right then," said Ridcully briskly. "Come on, you fellows. Haven't got all day to hang around and grumble. Got to go other places and grumble."

They proceeded towards the Guardhouse at a truly torturous pace to Rincewind, who kept wanting to go ahead and run back, but didn't want to give them the satisfaction. Ponder would only get that shiny look in his eyes again, and the senior faculty would think they'd done him a favor. They'd go on about how impressive they were again.

So he kept to the back of the group, sulking, and was therefore in a prime position to notice that someone was following them.

"Um," he began, and totally failed to make it before they leapt out.

He didn't get a good look, because by that time he was moving too fast; he grabbed Conina and shoved her out of the way and caught the first attacker a right crack on the head. She went down, but she was yelling, so he'd be back up in a moment. Conina had tackled the second, and he'd gone down too, more permanently. That left, what - he did a quick check - four, why had they sent only six for a party as big as the faculty? Or did they want the faculty? Rincewind kicked the person he'd knocked down; she went out and he zoomed over to the group that was gathering in the corner, knocking through it like ninepins. Conina was very efficiently taking them down, one by one, here with a steel comb and there with a well-aimed kick to the head, but more were swarming out of an alley and where were they coming from? He was surrounded now and they had guns and he could outrun a bullet, but maybe not three bullets coming from different directions. He stopped for a moment to assess the situation.

Someone hit him over the head at this juncture. He passed out.

 

Rincewind woke up tied back-to-back with Conina. This was fascinating. Who knew that people actually did this anymore? His last time being tied up with someone they'd been chained together. That had been the diplomat, of course. Gods, getting those handcuffs off had been awful.

"What happened?" he said.

"We got attacked, you got knocked out, they piled enough people on me to make me stop hitting them, I got knocked out, and now we're here." Conina rolled her eyes. "Lashed together."

"Ridiculous, isn't it," said Rincewind. "Not efficient at all."

"Pity the ropes seem so tight."

"Mmm," said Rincewind, trying to look up at his own skull. "Why does everyone always hit me on the head? I mean, what did I do to them?"

"Got in their way," said Conina absently, tugging at the ropes.

"Well, yes. But they could be polite. Some sort of 'you know, you're seriously interfering with our plans, please stop'. I've never even had anyone try to bribe me. I don't know why they all think I'm so honest and upright."

"Would you take it?"

"Dunno. Be nice to have a chance to find out, wouldn't it?" He examined the ropes. "Looks like we're tied quite nicely, aren't we."

"You seem strangely calm about this for a self-professed coward."

"Well, the thing about being a coward is, sometimes you've got to panic and run away, and other times you've got to have a nice, reasoned, leisurely panic and figure out your next move." Rincewind sniffed. "You can't just go charging about all the time, that's a quick way to get killed."

"Right," said Conina. "Any plans so far?"

"Nope," Rincewind said with hollow cheerfulness. "I haven't the faintest."

"You can't vibrate your molecules through the ropes or something?"

"That sounds like a neat trick. No, I can't. Did the senior faculty get away or are they in here with us?"

"Ha, well, they're not tied to us, so they're probably not here."

"Well, that's good," said Rincewind, brightening slightly. "They could get word that we're stuck in here."

"Or they might be dead."

Rincewind frowned. "I was trying not to think of that. I was trying to positive for once. I'm never positive. I thought it might help."

"It didn't," said Conina. "Come on. Can you reach my hands?"

"No."

"What about my pocket?"

"What?"

"My back pocket. I've got a knife in there."

There was silence while Rincewind tried to get into her back pocket in a way that was respectful and non-boundary-violating and not threatening in any way, for many reasons including the fact that she could probably still kill him when tied to him.

"I can't reach it," he reported.

"Too bad. I guess we sit here and wait to find out what they want." Conina leaned back.

"Waiting," said Rincewind with a sigh. "I can do that."

"At least it's a nice place to wait," Conina pointed out. 

It was; the room was large and spacious and had beautiful murals painted on the walls, so that at first glance you looked like you were sitting in a garden. Rincewind didn't like the outdoors, though, and he wasn't comfortable with the way one of the rabbits was looking at him.

"I'd prefer a nice cityscape," he said, glaring at it.

"Huh. See there, I was trying to be positive this time."

"Sorry."

It wasn't a very long wait. A short plump man wearing an artistic-looking peasant shirt and carrying a notebook and a cushion entered in short order.

"Oh, hello," he said. "How are you?"

"Tied up," said Rincewind.

"Yes, so I see. Why?"

"We haven't the faintest," said Conina. "We were sort of hoping you'd know."

The man wrinkled his forehead, and clapped his hands. "Abrim," he said, "There are people tied up in my studio. Can you explain?"

A tall thin man with a mustache oiled his way in.

Ah, said Rincewind thought, he'll be the second-in-command who really runs things around here. Bet my last dollar on it.

"What were you concerned about, Mr. Creosote?" said the man, smoothly turning towards the man.

"Look," said presumably-Creosote, gesturing at them. "There are people tied up in my studio."

Abrim peered at the two of them. "Yes, sir," he said. "I believe the enforcers brought them in."

"Whatever for?"

"They have the device we're seeking, sir."

"Oh? Yes? Which device is this?"

"The weapon, sir." 

"No we don't," said Conina from the floor. "We're looking for it same as you but we certainly haven't found it."

Abrim raised an eyebrow. "So you would say," he replied, and turned back to Creosote. "In any case, the device is crucial for the future of the company. I explained this."

"Ah. Yes. Future of the company." Creosote set his cushion down and opened his notebook. "Very important." He squinted at the notebook and scribbled something. "What rhymes with 'thou art'?"

"I wouldn't know, sir," said Abrim. He turned back to Rincewind and Conina. "Now, tell me where the weapon is is."

"We don't know," said Conina. "I told you."

"We really don't," said Rincewind. "We'd tell you if we did."

"It was stolen by some golden-haired kid who went and attacked a university with it afterwards," Conina put in. "You might want to go and ask him about, if you can find it."

Abrim sighed. "Sadly, I don't believe you," he said. "We shall have to use some persuasion." He clapped his hands, just as Creosote had done; some large unpleasant characters rolled in, several with bruises and nasty scowls. With sinking heart, Rincewind recognized one of them as the woman he'd clocked over the head when she'd tried to grab him.

This just wasn't his day, but when was it ever?

"Um, what sort of persuasion?" he said, eyeing them. Abrim ignored him.

"Separate them," he said. "Take the girl - yes, I think the Iron Maiden." Conina rolled her eyes at this. "And him to the snake pit."

"You can't do this," said Rincewind hopelessly.

"I can, you will quickly find."

"Look, it's fine," Conina whispered. "I've done Iron Maidens before, they're not that hard. Pathetic, really. Complete lack of professionalism. Anyway, you just go and wait for me in the snake pit. I'll be there when I'm finished."

"But I - " Rincewind began, but his ropes were cut and he was lead away.

"It'll be fine." Conina smiled at him. Rincewind's stomach sank at the flash of lightning that shivered up his spine at the sight of it. Pathetic.

And now snakes. This was the twelfth most awful day of his life, easily, and moving upwards.

 

Ponder Stibbons sighed. 

Yes, all right, the senior faculty had to go somewhere, but he didn't see why so many of them had to be hanging around in his temporary office and making noises while he worked. Couldn't they go down into the canteen with the rest? 

"What're you up to, then, young Stibbons?" inquired Ridcully, the president of the university. It was him and the Dean of the college of sciences currently troubling him, although he had no doubt a few more of them would be up to make his life harder soon.

"Trying to find Rincewind and Conina, sir," he said. 

"Yes? One of your clever tracking devices?" said the Dean, sticking his whiskery face over to the other side of Ponder's computer. Ponder winced.

"Yes, sir," he said carefully. "I'm trying to find Rincewind's signature. You see, the Guard have these little badges, and they have a computer chip in them for this precise purpose. I'm trying to track them. I can't find them at the moment, which may meant that they were destroyed, or which may simply mean that the signal is blocked."

"So why try?"

"Because if they are blocked, it's possible that they'll get themselves out from under the block, and I will be able to find them then," said Ponder. He carefully maintained his talking-to-senior-staff voice, which contrived to suggest that there were absolutely no questions that anyone could want to ask, and that everything was perfectly clear and sensible.

"Hmmm. Good thought, that." The Dean stroked his beard.

"Thank you, sir."

"So you could probably use some help," he added. 

Ponder gave a strangled noise of terror. "No, sir," he said. "I mean, I'm fine. You should go on down to the canteen with the rest. I understand they have coffee. And donuts."

"Ah, but I can't leave you to work on this alone," said the Dean.

"You can, sir," he said desperately. "You should go and figure out how we're going to get the University back, shouldn't you? I mean, that's more important than my project..."

"Yes, yes, good point," said the Dean. "Can't waste my talents in here." He wandered out, and Ponder sighed in relief. The Dean used one finger to type and had not updated his office computer in seven years. Ridcully was still here, though, and watching him with amusement.

"Good faculty-wrangling, Mr. Stibbons, but it won't work on me," he said cheerfully. "I'm staying."

Ponder sighed. "I'm sure you'll be a great help, sir," he said woodenly. 

"No doubt, no doubt," said Ridcully, settling more comfortably into his chair. "Now, explain how it is you're doin' that thing again?

Ponder sighed for the third time in fifteen minutes, and tried not to think of what the rest of this day was going to be like.

 

The snake pit consisted of a very large robotic snake, which blinked at him with red eyes and lay there making a hissing noise. The eyes were a bit creepy, but Rincewind was sitting quietly in a corner and it wasn't taking any interest in him so far.

Well, that knocked this down to maybe thirteen or fourteen, which was encouraging. 

It wasn't bad in here. Warm and dry and nobody threatening him. Perhaps he'd go to sleep. He felt bad about Conina, but she had indicated she could handle herself. He could use some sleep. It had been a long day.

He was just lying back and closing his eyes when a voice said "Hallo?"

Rincewind opened his eyes and peered suspiciously at the snake. Had they made a talking robot snake? Wasn't that a bit excessive? After all, you had your snake, and it had the fangs and the glowing eyes and so on, what did it need to talk for? The voice was awfully refined for a snake, too. Not at all intimidating.

"Hello," he said cautiously.

"You couldn't help me out of this pit, could you?" said the snake. 

"Why d'you want to leave? What're you going to do up there, anyway, drink oil? This is your pit. You've got a good deal. If I had my own pit, I'd stick to it."

"This is the snake pit," said the snake.

"And you are a snake," Rincewind said. "I mean, what more do you want?"

A figure stepped out of the shadows. Rincewind stood up and pressed himself against the wall, ready to run. Not that there were many places in here to run to, but - 

Oh. It was a tall, skinny kid, probably about twenty or so, wearing a very brief yellow-and-blue suit that did not go with his very ginger hair and his pale skin. Rincewind relaxed, but only slightly.

"You aren't a snake," he said.

"No. I should have hoped that would be obvious."

"Well, you were hiding off in the corner, I wasn't to know."

"I suppose not." The boy stepped forward further. "I'm Nijel the Destroyer."

"Are you?" said Rincewind doubtfully.

"Yes."

"That must be nice."

"I'm going to be a superhero," said Nijel the Destroyer.

"Are you?" said Rincweind again. He felt he was not contributing much to the conversation, but what could you _say_  to someone like this? "Do you have any powers?" he asked, with the hopeless feeling of someone who knows the answers already and doesn't like them.

"Not yet. I'm hoping to acquire some." Nijel looked hopefully at Rincewind's hat. "Do you know where I could get someone to douse me in a mysterious yet potent substance that would give me incredible abilities?"

"Yes," said Rincewind, "But I'm not going to tell you. Believe me, it's not worth it."

"But aren't you a superhero?"

"Ah. Well. In point of fact, sort of." Rincewind shrugged. "Somewhat inadvertently. It's not that great."

"Hmmm," said Nijel, narrowing his eyes. "And what are you in here for?"

Rincewind settled back down on to the comfortable ground. The snake still seemed uninterested in the proceedings; its lights were flashing on and off. He thought it might be...hibernating, or whatever it was that robotic snakes did.

"Oh," he said finally, "The person in charge of this place thinks me and my...temporary work partner have something we don't. Something they want, of course. So I'm being tortured to give it up. So is she, I believe."

"A girl in trouble?" Nijel straightened his shoulders and threw out his chest, which had no effect whatsoever.

"I don't think so," said Rincewind. "I mean, generally it's the people around her who have to be in trouble. So far, anyway. She's pretty dangerous."

Nijel was ignoring him. He sighed to himself; it seemed like everyone was doing that lately, but then again, it was hardly new.

"We've got to help her," Nijel said. "Can you get us out of here?"

"Why?" Rincewind shrugged. "It's like I said, she's usually fine, and she said she'd be all right. She told me to wait for her."

"Huh," said Nijel. "Come on. She'll probably need your help."

"I _highly_  doubt that," said Rincewind. "No, this is fine."

"Please?" Nijel fumbled around in his utility belt for a while. "It says in the code, look, it says you've got to rescue the girl." He waved a little book around. 

"What on earth is that?"

"Hero's code."

"By whom?"

"Cohen the Barbarian. Famous hero."

"Yes, I've heard of him." In fact Rincewind had met him when he'd been on escort duty for the diplomat, and didn't think he was the type to write a book of precepts full of wisdom for young swashbucklers, or whatever the equivalent heroic term was. He'd been too interested in chopping things up, such as giant robots and tentacle aliens. Augh, the tentacle aliens.

Nijel seemed to expect something else. Rincewind asked, "Does it say anything about taking the girl's wishes into consideration?"

Nijel consulted the pages. "No," he said.

"Ha." Rincewind pulled his hat down over his eyes.

"Please?" Nijel pleaded. "I need to do something to make my reputation."

"No. I'm not helping you make your reputation in superheroing. Believe me, you'll regret it."

Nijel glared at him and sat down.

At that moment the snake chose to come properly awake. It unwound itself slowly, and to Rincewind's growing horror, sat up.

"Oh gods," said Rincewind. "Is it fire-breathing or what?"

"Poisonous," said Nijel smugly. "Now you'll have to get us out of here."

"What's this us?" Rincewind grumbled. "I've got no obligation to you." But he grabbed Nijel anyway. The boy was even skinnier than he himself was, and not too difficult to carry. Right, then...up the wall at, say, 150 mph...difficult to get up speed in such a confined space, but a couple of go-rounds and, yes...

Nijel screamed as they flew up the wall, the snake's head lashing out behind them and nearly getting at their heels.

He was still shrieking gently when Rincewind flopped him unceremoniously onto the floor.

"What was that?" he wheezed.

"Me getting us out of there," said Rincewind, wincing. Why was he always having to carry people, anyway? And now his back hurt all over again, damn, damn. Today was rising towards twelve again, maybe a solid ten. 

"Now, where's this girl?"

"I don't know. In an Iron Maiden somewhere. Maybe we should stay p-"

There was something that sounded suspiciously roarlike from inside the pit. Did snakes roar? Rincewind wasn't willing to be his life.

"On the other hand," he said hastily, "She's probably already out and is looking for us. Come on. Let's go." He dragged Nijel by the wrist out the door of the snake-pit room.

 

Rincewind was admittedly not familiar with all this rescue-the-girl procedure, nor did he have a book that told him about any code, but he was pretty sure you weren't supposed to stop and ask people for directions in a hostile territory.

It was working, though, that was the extraordinary thing. It was actually working. Nobody questioned that there were a couple of weirdos wandering around in spandex and masks. They just...replied. 

"Iron Maiden room is on the fourth floor," said the third person they asked. "Just past the bathroom. You can't miss it.

"Thanks," said Nijel, and wandered back over to Rincewind. "Shall we, then?"

"Whatever," muttered Rincewind. "I'm sure this isn't how you're supposed to do that. Hasn't your book got something about that?"

"It has a section on interrogating suspects but I haven't got the thousand-yard stare perfected yet." He turned to Rincewind and gazed at him, eyes widening, looking rather like a stricken goose.

"No," said Rincewind, "I see what you mean. Where's the staircase?"

"Just this way."

 

It wasn't a very long walk; Nijel charged up the stairs enthusiastically, and Rincewind followed more carefully. Soon they were on the third floor.

"This is the Iron Maiden room," Nijel announced, stopping at a door.

"How can you tell?"

"It's got an Iron Maiden on it," Nijel explained helpfully.

"Oh." Rincewind gave the door a doubtful look. "All right, then."

Nijel pushed it open and marched inside, drawing his...yes, he had a sword strapped to his side. Rincewind hadn't noticed before. Ridiculous. Old Cohen used a sword, of course, but he had super strength and he could take practically anyone in a fight. This boy was a beanpole.

"Let the girl go," he announced, pushing out his chest, and deflated slightly when he realized there was no-one around to hear him.

"Oh," he said.

Rincewind trailed into the room. Well, no-one conscious, anyway. There were three guards lying around the room in various attitudes of having been knocked over the head.

"She's not here," said Nijel, brow furrowing.

"She's probably gone to find me," said Rincewind tartly. But the door to the Iron Maiden was creaking open, and Conina was stepping out.

"Thought I heard your voice," she said.

Rincewind peered at her. She was entirely uninjured. "How did you knock the guards out without getting out of the iron maiden?" he asked.

"I didn't. I just went back inside in case someone decided to come in." Conina rubbed absently at her hands while Rincewind gaped at the idea of someone who would willingly go into an iron maiden after escaping. 

She glanced over at Nijel. "Who's this? I thought you were going to wait in the snake pit."

"I was," said Rincewind sighing and stepping over to her. He motioned her over away from Nijel. "That lot over there made me come and find you."

"The skinny one?"

"Yes."

"He's sort of cute," she said thoughtfully. 

"What?! Conina, he was talking about rescuing you."

"Well? It was thoughtful of him." She glanced back over at him and smiled shyly. Rincewind rolled his eyes. 

"Even after I told him you had plans and didn't need rescued!"

Conina frowned for a moment. "He'll have to be trained a bit," she admitted. "But look at him. He's adorable."

Rincewind looked over at Nijel.

"Is he?" he muttered.

"And he must be nice, if he wanted to rescue me. I like that. I don't meet many nice people in my line of work."

"No, I suppose not."

"Will you introduce me?"

"What? Can't you introduce yourself?"

"Yes, but it'd be better if you did it."

"Don't tell me you're shy." Rincewind raised his eyebrows.

"Not exactly, I just...I don't get to meet many people who aren't trying to arrest me."

"Oh, fine." Rincewind ran over to Nijel and hauled him over to Conina.

"Conina, this is Nijel. He's an aspiring superhero. Nijel, this is Conina. She's a thief. Very good one. And she didn't need rescuing." He glared at him.

"But thank you for thinking of me," Conina said.

"Yes, well," said Nijel. "Got to protect people. That's, er, the superhero way."

"Yes," said Conina, glancing circumspectly at Rincewind. He frowned.

"Anyway," he said, "We've got to find a way out of here. I don't like to think what'll happen when they find out we'll escape."

"No." Conina shook herself. "You're right. Let's go, then - "

The floor shook. The ceiling shook. Rincewind grabbed Conina at high speed and pulled her out of the way as a chunk of it came down. She rolled when they hit the floor and dived over to pull Nijel down as another piece came crashing down near him; Rincewind had thrown himself into a corner and had his hands over his head. 

The ceiling piece crashed to the floor. There was silence, followed by a soft patter of plaster as bits fell down.

"Well," said Conina. "I think that means yes to the escape."

"Right," Rincewind murmured, getting up and dusting himself off.

"Gosh," said Nijel, awestruck. "You're pretty amazing."

Conina smiled and, to Rincewind's amazement, blushed faintly. "You _are_ shy," he hissed to her.

"What? No I'm not."

"You are. You blushed."

"I did not."

Rincewind didn't press the point, but reflected to himself that this was why you couldn't go noticing pretty people. It only ended badly. 

The plaster shower had ended now. They all got to their feet and looked around; the door was full of ceiling, but it was climbable.

"We could go out the window," said Conina, when they got to the stairs.

There was nothing particularly intimidating about the stairs themselves. It was the sounds coming from the hall that led away from them that probably prompted the observations. The screams, mostly. And the sizzling sounds.

"No," said Nijel, taking a deep heroic breath. "We've got to go and see if we can help people."

"Also," said Rincewind, "None of us can fly."

"Fair point." Conina sighed. "I don't know, this just hasn't been my week. All right." She marched down the stairs, leaving Nijel and Rincewind to follow in her wake.

The hall was deserted, but the screams were louder down there.

"It's from the room we were in before," said Rincewind grimly. "The Creosote room."

"I wish you hadn't said that. Isn't he the head of the family?"

"Yes."

"So anything attacking is probably going to be going after him."

"Yep."

"Pity. He wasn't as bad as Abrim."

Rincewind nodded. "So...are we going, or are we going to look for the way out?"

Conina shook her head. "We'll have to follow through now. We can't just leave."

"We could," said Rincewind.

"You're supposed to be a hero," said Nijel accusingly. "That's not very heroic."

"I keep telling people I'm not a hero," said Rincewind hopelessly. "I just got blackmailed into joining up with them."

"Well, you keep the company of heroes and people will assume you are one too," Conina said, shrugging. "Look at me."

As one, they turned to Nijel, who was striding down the hall with great determination.

"Do you think," she said after a while, "That he knows he's going the wrong way?"

 

Once they got Nijel straightened out, they headed down to Creosote's room. It was a walk that felt longer than it should have; Rincewind kept expecting things someone to burst out screaming and murder him at any moment, although since he was used to being afraid someone was going to murder him, this wasn't as bad as it could have been. The noises were getting on his nerves, though. The screams had mostly stopped, but there were crackly, whispery sounds on the edges of his hearing. 

Their steps slowed as they reached the room, and they stopped outside it as one. Conina and Rincewind looked at each other. Nijel stepped forward and pushed the door open gently.

No noise came from the inside, not even the whispers. But the unnatural light radiating out made you feel sick to your stomach, and spoke of things that should not have been.

They stepped inside.

It was astonishingly like the university. Bodies, in varyingly dreadful states of deadness. And, again, the little boy standing in the middle of it with his little grey box set beside him like a toy he'd got tired of.

Rincewind met his golden eyes, and froze. 

Nijel was throwing up beside him, but Rincewind could only just hear; there was a roaring in his ears and his breath was coming hard. He felt as though he was being dragged forward; every step was reluctant, but it was taking him towards the boy.

The boy's head tilted, and he looked up him and down as if appraising his suitability for a purpose Rincewind didn't want to contemplate.

"I am Coin," he said, in a voice that sounded far away and strange. "Who are you? I saw you before."

"I'm Wizzard, said Rincewind, his own voice hoarse. 

"And why have you come here?"

"Mostly by accident," said Rincewind. "I'm supposed to stop you, I think."

Coin frowned. "Why would you do that?"

"You're, um, killing an awful lot of people," said Rincewind.

Coin's eyes focused at a point behind Rincewind. "It is my father's wish," he said. "I follow my father's instruction."

"You...you don't have to," said Rincewind. "You have your own life."

"My own life," said Coin, sounding puzzled.

"Yes."

"I have no such thing. I am here to seek vengeance on my father."

"Who was your father?"

"Ipslore Red. He was a scientist at the Unseen University." Coin nodded. "And he was cast out unjustly, yes. I must seek vengeance. It was his last wish." He looked up at Rincewind. "I can't disobey his last wish."

Rincewind felt ill. Gods knew he was a bit weak on the subject of parents, but he knew that manipulating your twelve-year-old son into killing people because you were pissed off at UU? He was pissed off at UU, but that was between him and the university, not any extremely unlikely future children. 

"Why here?" he tried, hoping to dissuade Coin. "This isn't the university."

"Creosote's business was going to buy the weapon," said Coin. "They were to pay the university, and once again my father wouldn't have received any of the credit due to him. I had to..." He trailed off, his surety diminished.

Rincewind took advantage of the moment to try and talk some sense into the boy. "You don't have to," he said. "It's all right."

Coin shook his head, and the confusion was gone from his eyes.

"I must go," he said, picking up the box. "I won't kill you."

"Thanks?" said Rincewind, as Coin turned aside. "Um."

Conina came up behind him, just as Coin went out the door.

"What," she said, "Was that?"

"I don't know, but I think we need to follow that kid."

"Okay. Fine by me."

They snuck behind Coin all the way outside the palace. Nijel clonked and clattered his way along the passage, and Rincewind's eyes nearly fell out of his head with force of rolling, but Coin didn't notice; he seemed preoccupied, absorbed by his own thoughts. Rincewind wasn't sure how to reconcile that with the look of utter clarity he'd had when he touched the box. It was just a device; what could it do to help him?

It was like the only thing he was certain of was his mission.

Rincewind didn't want to think about the implications of that re:parenthood and Coin's father.

When they were out of the palace, though, Coin stopped abruptly and turned around.

"I can see you," he called to them. "I can see you followed me. I said I would not kill you. Why did you follow me?" He sighed. "I'll have to kill you now, I'm afraid. Clearly you can't be trusted." 

"You don't have to," said Rincewind, rather hopelessly thinking of the effect that had had last time. 

"I do," said Coin, lifting the box. 

Rincewind braced himself, and grabbed both Conina and Nijel.

He ran. He didn't stop to look or worry about the direction; to wasn't important, from was. It felt like his back was breaking as the wind rushed past, but he got them as far as he could before he gave out. He didn't know where they were; a beach somewhere, and it was a miracle he hadn't run out into the ocean and sunk when he'd stopped. 

Rincewind fell over.

"Are you quite all right?" said Conina, picking herself up. "That was very impressive."

"Thanks," Rincewind groaned from the ground. 

"Yeah, really great job with the life-saving," said Nijel shakily. "I thought we were done for when he lifted that little box. Er. What was that little box?"

"Some sort of phaser," said Rincewind tartly. "And it created all those bodies you saw lying around. Well, I say created."

"Urgh," said Nijel. "Definitely thank you, then. Are you, er, all right?"

"No."

"Okay."

"Just let me lie here for a while," Rincewind added.

"Okay."

Rincewind let out a long breath that was half groan and half sigh. He took a moment to process the conversation with the boy. Coin, wasn't it? Ipslore...Rincewind had heard about Ipslore. He'd been dismissed from the university, hadn't he, for unconventional ideas. Something to do with a weapon. He must have been in on the project in the early stages, then, and provided some sort of important idea that had made it work that didn't get credited to him. Or so Rincewind assumed; that would make sense with the whole business of killing Spelter and attacking the university. Or, well, some sort of sense. 

What would the kid's next target be? If he wasn't satisfied with the university, which Rincewind assumed he wouldn't be, what was next?

The city?

Rincewind blinked. He put his hand over his eyes, and groaned again. Oh no. That was an awful lot of destruction. Surely Coin wouldn't....but then Rincewind had no proof of that, did he. The university had been an awful lot of destruction, too, and that hadn't stopped him.

Bugger. Someone was going to have to be heroic, weren't they.

"I say," said a voice from behind him, "Aren't you two the ones were tied up in my studio?"

Rincewind shut his eyes. "That's not Creosote," he said.

"It is," said Conina wearily.

"I was just out here trying to find inspiration for my latest poem," explained Creosote. "What are you all doing out here? Are you also poets?"

Eight. At least the eighth worst day of his life. This was a record for how fast it was climbing, too. It hadn't even started that badly. Number nine had begun with him spilling an entire pot of coffee on himself, while it was still hot, and gone downhill from there.

He realized something that made the day climb rapidly up to five, with potential for three if things went badly. Could even be one if he died. Yes, dying would definitely make this the worst day of his life, he felt confident in saying that.

"I've got to stop him," he said, sitting up gingerly.

"Creosote?"

"No, Coin."

"You can't," said Conina. "He's got that box."

"If I can get at him quick enough and disable it, he won't be able to use it." Rincewind rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I'm the only person in the Guard who can do that. Move fast enough. Nobody else will be able to."

"Oh," said Conina softly.

There was a long pause.

"If anyone wants to say, you can't do this, it's far too dangerous, now would be a great time," Rincewind said.

There was more silence. 

"So," said Creosote eventually. "You're not a poet?"

Rincewind got to his feet. "I thought so," he said, rubbing his tired eyes with one hand. "Okay. Which direction is Ankh-Morpork? Anyone know?"

Creosote pointed out across the ocean.

"Right," said Rincewind.

"You can't just leave us here," said Conina, folding her arms. "We don't have any way of getting back!"

"Well, I can't take all three of you." Rincewind ran a hand down his face. "Look, Coin's gone so you can go back to Creosote's place, right? And call the Guard, and they'll do something, probably. In the meantime, I need to stop him. I don't know what he's going to do next, but it's not going to be good. Okay?"

"But - " Conina began, but Rincewind didn't hear anymore because he ran off across the water. You needed a lot of concentration to be able to do that. It had taken him ages to learn, and he'd had a lot of wet feet in the meantime.

Creosote's vaguely-pointed finger had been surprisingly accurate. Ankh loomed up on the horizon in a matter of minutes. Rincewind had to slow down once he was on dry land again, but he was still moving fast enough that finding the boy didn't take long.

He was standing on a jetty on the river, turning the device thoughtfully in his hands and frowning.

"Hello again," he said as Rincewind stopped. "You're here."

"Um...yes."

"I thought you might follow me. You've done before."

"Yes. Well." As Rincewind spoke, Coin absentmindedly reached toward a button.

"No!" said Rincewind, "Just give me a minute, all right? Will you stop and listen to me?"

Coin raised an eyebrow, and stopped moving. 

There was a long silence. Rincewind hadn't thought this out all the way through; it'd been a long night with no sleep - being unconscious didn't count - and he had nothing left.

"Well?" said Coin.

"Are you going to, er, zap me?"

"I'll probably have to." Coin sighed. "It's very...stressful. I don't like doing it." Coin looked at him. "If you go away and promise not to interfere I won't have to and that would be nice. I have a lot of things to do."

"Killing-people things."

"Well...yes."

"You can't just do that. I can't...I can't just let you." As much as Rincewind hated to say it, it was true. It was one thing to turn a blind eye to a robbery or something. This was a lot different. Even he couldn't just run away. Not now.

"Why not?" Coin's head tilted. "Their rejection killed my father. As surely as if they had stuck a knife into him. And then they used his work and didn't even give him the credit."

"You can recover from rejection," said Rincewind sharply, balling his fists. "And theft. You can recover from anything but death. In most instances, of course," he added, thinking about Zombie. 

Coin seemed to ignore him, staring with the far-off look of a boy who was hearing an inner voice.

"They killed him," he said softly. "And he said I had to kill them."

"You don't have to."

"I want to. I hate them. They took him from me."

"But this is the entire city," said Rincewind desperately. "What about innocent people?"

Coin gave him a puzzled look. "That's the only way to make sure they're all gone. He always did say that the people here hated him. Didn't understand him. Besides, it won't be the whole city, just this part. I can't get into the Guardhouse, and that's where they are. So here will be fine. It's not very populated. It won't hurt very many civilians."

There were harmonics of uncertainty in his voice, as if he was much more interested in convincing himself than convincing Rincewind. That was an encouraging sign; Rincewind thought for a moment and took a deep breath.

"Look," he said, "I have as much cause to hate the university as anyone. I mean...they didn't hurt someone I loved, but they took my life from me, all right? My entire life. It...it wasn't good but it was mine and now it's not, but I'm here sticking up for them, not because I'm a good person, which I'm not, I promise, but because killing people is wrong." He stopped, aware that this was not the most compelling argument. "And...and you shouldn't let someone else have your life," he continued. "It's yours, all right? Don't waste it on someone else's...quest, okay, make it your own. You're what, thirteen?"

"Fourteen."

"You're fourteen, you should be living. Going to school." Rincewind waved. "I realize those two things are mutually exclusive, but, you know. Meeting people, that sort of thing." He shook his head. "Your father was wrong to saddle you with this and if he'd loved you or had your best interest in mind he'd have just told you to get on with your life. I don't know much about parents, but I'm pretty sure making your son carry out your petty quest for revenge isn't in the manual."

Coin looked at him for a while.

"It's very compelling," he said, thoughtfully. "Live my life?"

"Has no-one ever told you that before?"

"No-one who ever prefaced it with 'they took my life from me'. It did make an impression."

"Well," said Rincewind awkwardly. 

"And I might have listened, perhaps. There's just one problem," continued Coin. "I activated the device before you got here."

"What! Whydidn'tyousaythatbefore?" 

"I...didn't want to stop you. No-one has ever...seemed to care. Anyway, it's not as though it would make any difference. You can't stop it."

"Shit," said Rincewind. Then sighed. "All right. Give it here."

"I'm sorry?"

"I said give it here."

"You can't – "

Rincewind snatched the device from Coin's hands and was gone even as the boy realized what had happened. Rincewind caught a slice of his stricken face as he turned and ran.

Okay, so, ticking time bomb doomsday device. What do you do with that?

It was, he supposed, a sufficiently comic book ending. What with one thing and another. 

 

"I've got a lock," said Ponder, scrambling to stand up. "He's in the city. He's – out by the river! We've got to go get him."

"Now, hold on, young Ponder," began Ridcully, but Ponder interrupted him. "There's no time to hold on, sir! He's with the device!" Ponder gathered his equipment and rushed out, leaving Ridcully speechless for once.

He didn't have a vehicle, but the Guardhouse was in the center of the city and Rincewind wasn't far away. He hurried over as the beeping got louder, triangulating on the location.

And then lost the signal.

"No no no," Ponder chanted, bringing up the last known location. "No, you can't – "

He arrived at the last place Rincewind had been, and looked up. There was a young man with golden eyes there, looking lost.

Ponder recognized him, and tensed.

"I don't have it," said the boy. "He took it."

"Why?"

"I'd set it to blow, you see. He had to fix it." The boy swayed. "How is he going to fix it?"

"I don't know," said Ponder. "Why did you let him take it?"

"I didn't. I didn't want to. He just...he was so fast." The swaying intensified. "I just wanted to do what my father wanted."

Ponder patted the child, wondering how things had reversed themselves to such an extent that he would be comforting the, technically, supervillain, in the middle of the street.

"I'm sure he'll be all right," he lied.

The boy just shook his head.

 

Apparently, Watchman had agreed that the boy didn't need to go to jail, not the sort they had here. He was staying with the Librarian at the moment. Ponder was still hanging around his makeshift lab in the Guardhouse, ostensibly keeping an eye out for the device so that he could dismantle it if need be, honestly hoping for some sort of word. It seemed so vastly unjust. People always came back, in stories. That was what stories were for.

The fact that he was a scientist and therefore shouldn't have believed in things as simple as stories was quite beyond his thought processes right now. It just didn't seem fair.

The universe wasn't fair, and Ponder hated it right now on behalf of his ten-year-old self who would have been so disappointed.

It was nearly two days later, entirely too late at night, when Ponder went to get a cup of tea and came back to find his walls covered in black marker.

They said this: help me.

His first thought was that it was a prank. No – his first thought was, ghost. But ghosts weren't real, so it had to be a prank.

The papers on the floor had been arranged to spell letters, too. Help me. 

It was signed in big black marker-letters. Wizzard.

Ponder dropped his cup. Tea splashed on his sneakers but he couldn't bring himself to care, not right now, not when he had proof. That it could still have been a prank did not occur to him; no-one would be so insensitive.

He asked the empty air how? in the futile hope that Rincewind was still hanging around somewhere.

To his shock, a blank space on the wall suddenly said DON'T KNOW UR TH SCIENTIST.

Ponder had to concede that this was true. "How are you manipulating physical objects?"

HARD. FUZZY.

"Okay, so you're probably moving too fast to be seen. How did this happen? No, sorry, you can't answer that, it'd take too much writing. Anyway, you probably don't know exactly."

The wall said: WEAPON.

"Okay. Yes. Explosion? Move the papers if yes, to save on wallspace."

The paper rearranged themselves in a whoosh of wind.

"Hmm." Ponder straightened his glasses. "I'll be back."

He fetched Coin.

 

It took thirty-six more hours, a significant amount of coffee, and several more messages from Rincewind. But, eventually – 

Rincewind fell into the room. Or that was how it looked: he'd been there all along, surely, but it looked like he'd stumbled in from thin air.

Ponder rushed over and had to restrain himself from hugging him in glee.

"It worked!"

"Evidently," wheezed Rincewind. "Thanks, by the way."

"Oh, no, thank you – er, that is, for saving everyone." Ponder said. "How long has it been since you've had anything to eat?"

"Ugh," said Rincewind.

"We'd better get you on an IV." Ponder opened the door. "Excuse me, is there some sort of medic?"

A short young woman stuck her head in the door. "I'll call for one," she said. "What'd you do?"

"Brought him back."

"How?"

"Are you a physicist?"

"No. Chemist. Forensic."

"Then I'm afraid it would take too much time to explain. But he hasn't eaten in three days."

The woman bustled off, and Ponder took Rincewind's arm carefully. "You'll be safe soon. That was good work. What happened to the device?"

"Blew up. Far out over the ocean. Knocked me, I don't know, backwards, and I woke up and everything was – quiet, and still, and I was moving too fast, so I got back here and I had to try and figure out how to make things work – " Rincewind swayed. "Can I have some water?"

"Right. Right." Ponder hurried with his coffee cup to the bathroom and brought it back full of water.

The medic came soon after, and rushed Rincewind away to a proper hospital. This was fortunate, as he fainted on the way.

 

When Rincewind woke up, he was vaguely surprised to find that he was not in anyone's secret base. He seemed to be in a proper bed. That was all right, but he also felt like someone had punched him repeatedly and then sliced open his torso and sewn it back up again.

"Did I have surgery?" he said the to the empty air.

"That's an...unusual choice of first question," said a voice beside him. Rincewind twisted. It was Ponder Stibbons. 

"Did I?" he persisted.

"No."

"Oh." Rincewind fell back asleep.

When he woke up again Ponder was still there, so it couldn't have been long.

"Why are you here?" he tried.

"You know, most people say 'where am I?' There have been studies done on it."

"I am in the hospital. I recognize the pattern on the ceiling."

Ponder hmmm-ed. "You've been here before?"

"After I got...changed. Never mind, later." Rincewind made an attempt to sit up. He wasn't too dizzy, so he propped himself up against the back of the bed. "Why are you here?"

"How much do you remember?"

"You got me out."

"I wanted to make sure you were all right. Also, see if there were any effects. Different dimension."

"Oh." Science experiment, again. Rincewind was so tired of being someone's project.

"What happened to Coin?" he ventured next.

"He's all right. With the Librarian, right now."

"Ah."

"He wanted to see you, but they wouldn't let him in."

"I suppose they said animals weren't allowed."

"Yes."

"He must have loved that."

"I believe he was still screeching when Coin made him come away."

"Hmmm." Rincewind sat up a little more. "He'll be back. He hates when people do that."

"I'm not surprised."

There was silence.

"You did very well," said Ponder awkwardly. "Very...heroic."

Rincewind snorted. "It was desperate."

"Not sure what the difference is," said Ponder a bit shyly. "I mean, isn't heroism just desperation channeled correctly?"

"I don't know where you get your idea of heroes," said Rincewind.

There was a pause. "You said you’d been in here before," said Ponder.

"Yes. Right. Well. Someone had to fix my metabolism after you lot mucked with it," Rincewind said. "Otherwise I was going to starve to death. Vetinari...helped me."

"And that’s why you joined the Guard?"

"Not exactly. Sort of. You see what I mean about desperation?"

"Nevertheless, I still think -" Ponder began,  just as the Librarian burst in, ooking emphatically at Rincewind. 

"Yes, thank you," Rincewind said, barely noticing Ponder slipping out. The Librarian was patting his cheek and expressing delight at the general not-dismembered state of Rincewind's limbs, which was oddly comforting. No matter what shape he was in, the Librarian had been Rincewind's friend for ages, and it was nice seeing him there. It restored a sense of normality. 

Rincewind wasn't sure what it meant that an ape in his hospital room meant _normal_  to him, but at least it helped.

Maybe this was a sufficiently comic-book ending, too. Surviving. And if it wasn't, well, it was good enough for him.

  
  


Ponder was in the basement of the Physical Sciences Building, late again. But it was almost finished. In the weeks since he'd brought Rincewind back, he'd been working extra hard on it.

He walked around it, surveying his handiwork. It looked terribly impressive, all green and silver and bronze-coloured, but he'd got Adrian to give him a hand with the painting. He'd said it was for cosplay. That was one advantage of being a nerd; people believed you about things like that. It'd been a job to come up with a believable character that Adrian could plausibly have never heard of, but he'd rather liked the name he'd ended up with.

Hex.

It would be a good superhero name, he thought.

"Hex," he said, "Activation sequence, please."

It lit up from within, the metal bits glowing with power as the activation sequence proceeded. Ponder smiled, and carefully began to buckle on the various bits of the mech suit. It was ready to test.

There aren't ever really any ends in a comic book; every resolution contains the beginning of the next adventure. 

Sometimes life imitates art.

Ponder Stibbons, soon to be known as Hex, soared away into the night on rocket-powered boots.

And dreamed about heroism.

 


End file.
